


Her Seductive Charm

by EmerySaks7



Category: The Music Man
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 11:22:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmerySaks7/pseuds/EmerySaks7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harold Hill's affable manner suddenly disappears, Marian realizes her overworked husband is in need of a pleasant distraction. Fortunately, she has the perfect plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Seductive Charm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morfiwien Greenleaf](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Morfiwien+Greenleaf).



> _Written in response to a fanfic challenge._

Throughout River City, Professor Harold Hill was known for his charming nature and carefree demeanor. His easygoing manner, so evident in his daily dealings throughout the town, was as familiar to the townspeople as Ed's famous strawberry phosphates. So, it came as a bit of a surprise when the usually-ebullient professor was seen sporting an unfamiliar look of worry and his seemingly-endless supply of patience appeared to be finite after all.

These turn of events were most shocking to his wife. During their courtship, Marian Paroo Hill had come to depend on Harold's affable personality and upbeat optimism. His ability to transform a setback into success was one of the many things that captured her heart, and she found herself learning valuable life lessons regarding one's outlook on circumstances beyond their control. After almost seven months of marriage, she was still discovering unknown facets of her husband's personality and falling more in love with him each day.

It had been quite the surprise, then, to have Harold snap waspishly at her during their breakfast when she innocently inquired as to what time he would arrive home that evening.

"When I finish what I'm doing, I suppose," he said, irritation coloring his tone. "I didn't realize I had to report my every coming and going to you."

Marian's eyes widened in astonishment at such a terse response, but before she could even think to reply, Harold gathered his plate and glass and disappeared into the kitchen. A few moments later, she heard the front door slam shut and watched her husband stalk down the front stairs and out to the sidewalk.

Her Irish temper instantly flared, but as the cool voice of reason pervaded her thoughts, her initial anger quickly faded. Harold had been working increasingly longer evenings at the Emporium. After the last shipments of instruments had arrived damaged, he and Tommy Djilas had spent night after night trying to repair them and salvage the money Harold had invested in them. Coupled with trying to collect damages from Wells Fargo, instruct students' lessons and prepare for the Labor Day concert, her husband's life was quite stressful.

Perhaps what Harold needed was a distraction. An idea had been playing in the back of her mind for several months now, and as she contemplated it once again, she realized that tonight would be the perfect opportunity to finally act upon it. She would need to have everything laid out before she left for the library in case she was unexpectedly kept late. It wouldn't do to have Harold arrive home and her mysteriously disappear upstairs. Deciding to put her plan into action, Marian hurried upstairs, a wide smile on her face.

XXX

When Harold returned home several hours later, his mood was that of a penitent husband. His time spent at the Emporium had allowed him to see his breakfast behavior for what it had been – childish. Snapping at his wife was completely out of character for him, and he had wrestled with the unfamiliar pang of guilt that his action had brought. Deciding it best to forgo an evening of planning in his office, he closed the shop precisely at 5 p.m. and headed home, stopping by the Candy Kitchen to purchase a bag of butterscotch candies – Marian's favorite. As an added measure, he made a slight detour to the creek in order to pick some wildflowers for which he knew his wife had a particular affinity.

Harold wasn't sure what response would greet him when he walked through his front door. Although Marian was usually quite even-tempered, he couldn't help wonder if his little temper tantrum at breakfast would warrant his wife giving him a piece of her mind. But to his surprise and relief, the only thing that met him when he entered his home was the heavenly smell of Marian's cooking wafting from the kitchen. Hanging his hat on a peg in the entryway, Harold quietly closed the door. Quickly divesting himself of his sheet music, he made his way through the parlor, but stopped short when he spied his wife in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove.

As Harold watched Marian stir the contents of a large pot, he was once again reminded of her loveliness. Even in something as mundane as cooking, she managed to effortlessly capture his attention. Her ensemble was nothing grand – she had simply tied a white apron over the blue skirt he so dearly loved. He instantly recalled that afternoon, almost a year ago, when he had first encountered his wife on her own territory. After wooing his future mother-in-law with promises of a shiny cornet for Winthrop, Marian had stormed out the screen door, instantly dispelling Harold's myths of grandeur and pageantry. When Harold had charmingly tried to play off his chance meeting, she had frostily informed him just what he could with his "musical tricks." Even in her anger, she had been enchanting. Dancing with her in the library a few days before had been a delectable treat, but Harold would easily admit that it was his wife's spark of fire that afternoon which had begun to silently lure him to her. After returning to the boarding house that evening, his thoughts had been solely focused on the librarian – her slim waist covered by a white apron draped over a blue skirt and her hazel eyes blazing with fury. He had drifted to sleep imagining those same eyes gazing at him with longing, and in his dreams he transformed her fury into passion.

Gazing at her now as she bustled about their kitchen, he shook his head and chuckled. He had never stood a chance. That much was clearly obvious.

Marian, hearing him laugh behind her, turned and gave him a wide smile. "Harold!" she exclaimed. "You're home awfully early."

He shrugged and stepped forward, offering her the flowers he held in his hand.

"I owe my dear wife an apology," he said, by way of explanation, and regarded her with sincere eyes. "I behaved terribly this morning, and I'm sorry."

Marian beamed at him and took the flowers from his hand. "Honestly, Harold, you didn't have to do that," she protested, but Harold could see the delight in her eyes and knew he'd chosen wisely. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the bag of candies and held them aloft.

"Butterscotch," he grinned.

Marian's eyes widened in happy surprise. "My favorites!"

"I know," he nodded. "I thought they'd make a nice treat for after dinner."

Marian gave him a sly smile and returned to the stove. "You thought they would placate an irritated wife."

Harold shrugged and chuckled. "That, too."

Coming up behind her, he slid his arms around her waist and lowered his mouth until he could softly nuzzle her neck. "You're not angry with me?"

Marian shook her head and leaned into his embrace. "No darling, I'm not. I was a bit irritated, at first, but then I realized you've been working constantly lately. That's bound to take a toll on anyone, even you. You're not invincible, you know," she teased.

Harold pressed his lips against her skin and gave her several light kisses. "Madam Librarian, you are a lady from the ground up," he murmured and was pleased when he heard his wife's soft sighs. Snaking his hand beneath her apron, he began to caress her flat stomach, slowly working his way toward her hips. He was rewarded by Marian pressing closer to move against him. Harold's breath caught in his throat at her suggestive movement, and all thoughts of dinner fled from his mind. He was about to suggest they forgo eating when a loud whistle pierced the air. Startled, he dropped his arms from Marian's waist and looked around the kitchen in confusion.

Marian, her face quite flushed, reached to the stove and removed the tea kettle from the burner. Glancing sheepishly at her husband, she smiled. "I thought you might enjoy a glass of iced tea with your dinner."

Realizing the mood had been broken, Harold chuckled and then nodded in agreement. "A glass of iced tea would be perfect, my dear."

XXX

After their heated encounter in the kitchen, Harold and Marian decided it best to retire to the dining room and settled down to an enjoyable meal, filled with conversation and questions. Marian, eager to tell her husband about her latest shipment of books, chattered on merrily to Harold, who listened with amused interest. His wife could be reserved when the situation warranted it, but rarely did she bubble with as much enthusiasm as when she conversed about books.

Once she had finished explaining the latest display she was going to create for her new arrivals, Harold politely excused himself to retrieve his sheet music while Marian slipped into the kitchen to refill their tea. When she returned, he was poring over pages scattered next to his plate, a pencil in one hand, his fork in the other.

Oblivious to his wife's reappearance, he frowned at the selection before him. He wasn't sure if this particular piece would convey what he wanted. His boys could play it. Of that, he had no doubt. But was it the right song? Sighing loudly, he pushed the peas on his plate over to his mashed potatoes and began covering them. Maybe he should choose something else. Something less pretentious. More festive.

Lost in his own wandering thoughts, he barely acknowledged Marian's exit from the table. The sounds of dishes being neatly stacked in the cabinets drifted into the dining room, but Harold hardly noticed. He didn't know how long he had been staring blankly at the sheet of music in front of him, but he figured it must've been a while, because when he looked up, Marian was standing in the doorway, and watching him with unconcealed amusement.

"Does that help?" she teased gently. "Simply looking at it?" Her loving smile was contagious, and Harold couldn't help giving her one in return.

"Apparently not," he shrugged. Looking down, he realized he had combined every portion on his plate into one large pile. "But it appears to do wonders for appetite control." Marian laughed, and he chuckled with before sighing and running a hand over his head.

"I can't decide between "Bonnie Annie Laurie" and this one," he explained, pointing at the sheet music that lay on the table.

"You and your Sousa," Marian smiled.

Harold grinned and shrugged. "The man is a genius. That's what makes it so difficult." Glancing down again, he looked at his meal in mild dismay and then back up at his wife. "I'll take care of this, darling. No reason for you to have to clean my mess."

Marian looked sweetly touched by his offer. "That's awfully thoughtful of you, Harold," she said and beamed at him. "If you don't mind, I think I'll retire upstairs."

Harold glanced at her with concern. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"No, not at all," she assured him. "I'm simply tired. We've both been working long hours lately, and I thought the extra sleep might do me some good. It wouldn't hurt you, either," she said in a meaningful tone.

Acknowledging the wisdom of her words, Harold nodded. "Why don't you go ahead, and I'll join you shortly. I want to mull over this piece a bit longer."

Marian smiled knowingly at him and nodded. "Don't be long, dear."

Murmuring a distracted reply, Harold waved at his wife and then returned his attentions to "The Liberty Bell," chewing on his lip in thoughtful frustration.

XXX

Another half hour had passed before Harold finally settled on the older "Bonnie Annie Laurie" over the newer strapping march. Reasoning the cheerful tune would be exactly what the festivities called for and would provide a welcome counterpoint to the marches they had just completed for the 4th of July celebrations, he trudged up the stairs to their bedroom, eager to shed his clothes and slip in between the cool, cotton sheets of his bed. Marian was right: they had been working rather long hours.

He momentarily wondered if his wife had already retired for the evening, but quickly realized she had not when the sounds of running water echoed down the hall. Marian was still in the washroom. He briefly toyed with the idea of joining her but, remembering her earlier claim of fatigue, thought better of it. Best to let her get some rest. He could always steal a few kisses this evening. That would suffice for tonight.

Satisfied with the thought, Harold discarded his jacket over the armchair and made quick work of his shoes, wriggling his toes in relief. His trousers soon followed, and he breathed an audible sigh of relief as the cool summer breeze brushed across his legs. It had been a scorcher, but the evening was shaping up to be rather pleasant.

The thought of simply draping his pants over the chair along with his coat was tempting, but he could see Marian's disapproving look in his mind, so Harold obediently took them to the closet and reached for a hanger.

He had just begun to hang his trousers when he heard Marian's footsteps outside in the hall. Turning, he watched as Marian glided into their bedroom, a vision of loveliness. Harold immediately halted his movements and greedily drank in the apparition standing before him. Marian had chosen to depart from her usual nightgown and was wearing the satin camisole he had bought for her during their honeymoon. This particular camisole happened to be one of his favorite pieces in his wife's wardrobe, a fact which he knew Marian was quite aware. Seeing her in it now, after a long and harried day, made his heart begin to pound. Harold opened his mouth to comment on Marian's delectable choice of evening attire, but found himself unable to voice his admiration. His throat felt extremely dry, and it took him a few attempts to finally swallow the lump that had formed there.

A seductive smile played at the edges of Marian's mouth as she moved toward him, her eyes never leaving his. When she reached where he stood, she smoothed her hands up along the fabric of his shirt, her palms gliding over his shoulders before settling behind his neck. "Good evening, Professor Hill," she breathed in a throaty voice.

Finding speech once more, Harold grinned at his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Madam Librarian," he murmured. "And, what did I do to merit such a lovely gesture?" he asked as his fingers teasingly caressed her through the thin material.

Marian smiled coyly at him, and pressed closer. Harold's eyes drifted shut as her fingers slid through the short hair at the back of his neck, and his head dropped to rest against her smooth shoulder.

"It's been a hard month for you, darling," Marian softly murmured as she caressed his neck.

Harold merely nodded, content to succumb to his wife's tender affection.

"And as such, I thought it might be nice to give you a relaxing evening," she continued, and turned her head to place several kisses against his wavy locks.

"What did I ever do to deserve you, Marian?" Harold whispered, shamelessly soaking up her loving ministrations.

Marian's light laughter washed over him, but her answer carried a serious tenor that belied the levity of her tone. "You loved me, darling."

"Love you," Harold instantly corrected. "Present tense."

Marian smiled and nodded her agreement. "And that was more than I ever hoped for, Harold." Trailing her hands over his shirt, she began to slowly unbutton it, raising her eyes to his as she did so. Harold could see the desire shining in them, and his breathing quickened as his wife's soft voice echoed through the room.

"I don't think you'll be needing this, Professor," she whispered, pulling his arms free and draping the shirt across a nearby chair.

Harold watched her in mild disbelief. He was tired. That much he knew. But he couldn't process the fact that Marian wasn't going to hang up the shirt, not after all the grief he'd gone through early on their marriage when he hadn't realized the importance of properly returning his clothes to the closet.

Glancing at it, Harold sought his wife with questioning eyes. "You're going to leave it there?"

Marian regarded him with an amused smile. "I had planned to, yes."

"Really?"

"Really," she agreed with a laugh. "But, if it that's important to you, I can take care of it." She leaned down and reached for the offending material. "However, that will take away from our time together and from the activities I had planned for us," she informed him as she began to walk toward their closet.

Harold's arms instantly encircled her waist and pulled her back, turning her to face him. "No! It's fine!" he assured her feverishly. "Leave it on the chair."

Marian arched an alluring eyebrow. "Are you certain?"

"Absolutely," Harold confirmed, tightening his embrace. He grinned at her. "Now, tell me all about these plans."

"I think I'd rather show you," she murmured huskily before smiling seductively. The next moment, Marian had slithered out of his embrace and was kneeling before him. Harold was certain he was dreaming as his wife reached down and slowly undid the clasp of one garter, removing it from his leg, then repeated the gesture with the remaining one. Harold watched, in dazed disbelief, as Marian's small hands made quick work of his socks. Running her palms up along his bare legs, she slipped two fingers beneath the waistband of his drawers. When she glanced up at him, Harold was startled to discover obvious arousal in his wife's eyes. The idea that she was just as excited by undressing him as he was of watching her sent his pulse racing, and he had to suppress the urge to pull her to their bed and give in to the fevered ideas rushing through his mind.

When he felt the constricting material slide past his hips and down his legs, he released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The soft exhalation echoed in the silence, and then Marian was rising to meet him, her steady gaze never leaving his. Reaching for his hand, she laced their fingers together and then gently tugged him forward.

"I think, perhaps, we should retire for the evening," she suggested.

"Whatever you think best, Madam Librarian," he agreed in a hoarse whisper, and allowed his wife to lead him to their bed. Looking down, he realized she had already turned the covers back, and he was surprised to find he hadn't noticed that before. As he lay down atop the cool sheets he'd dreamt of earlier, he watched as Marian extinguished the lights in their room. The moonlight streaming in from the open window cast a pale glow throughout the room, and Harold was mesmerized by his wife's illuminated form. Lowering herself next to him, she ran her soft palm along his chest, her nails gently scoring his skin as her hand travelled lower. Harold's eyes slid shut at the sensation, and he groaned when he felt Marian's mouth nuzzle the base of his neck. When her hand briefly flitted across his thighs, just barely touching his evident arousal, he shuddered and his eyes opened once more to focus on the golden form beneath his chin. He felt Marian smile against his skin, and then was she moving again, whispering his name softly as she moved lower.

Harold could only stare, in awe, as Marian slowly worked her lips along his warm body, trailing seductive kisses along his bare flesh, her hands tracing the path her mouth had already marked. Seven months of marriage had warranted a remarkable change in his once-prim wife's bedroom demeanor. As she had become more comfortable with their lovemaking, Harold had slowly introduced Marian to the many joys and pleasures a man and wife could share. Although she had demonstrated a remarkable forwardness in voicing her desires, she had never once displayed such an enthusiastic eagerness to play the outright role of seductress. But as she moved to brazenly straddle his hips, he realized that was exactly what was happening tonight. He felt his blood began to race, and he licked his suddenly-dry lips.

Harold watched, with avid fascination, as the material of Marian's camisole lifted higher and revealed the pristine alabaster thighs he loved and of which he could never get enough. Unable to resist the temptation Marian so charmingly presented, he raised his hands and lovingly caressed her smooth skin. A grin stole across his features when she moaned softly and began to rub against him, her head falling back in apparent pleasure.

Satisfaction coursed through him at her uninhibited response to his attentions, and his hands danced higher along her thighs, intent on eliciting more than mere moans from Marian. However, it seemed Marian had other ideas, because before he was allowed to reach his destination, his wife reached down and gently covered his hands with hers, effectively halting his action. A rueful smile illuminated her features as she shook her head at him.

"Not so fast, Professor," she scolded, and returned his hands to the cool sheets beneath him.

Harold knew his disappointment was obvious when Marian began to giggle, but he couldn't help it. She was really too tempting. He was about to voice his frustration, but stopped cold when Marian grinned at him and then slithered down his lower body until her mouth was level with his stomach. Harold felt his jaw drop in disbelief and could only stare in dazed amazement. Still not quite believing this was happening to him, he watched as Marian lovingly bestowed open kisses over his hips and thighs, imperceptibly moving closer to areas she had only visited in his fantasies. He shuddered in fevered anticipation and looked at his wife with questioning eyes.

"Marian?" he murmured, trying to maintain control of his racing thoughts.

"I have plans for you, darling," she teased, and then gave him a saucy smile before her tongue darted out to tickle a sensitive spot on his hip before moving lower again.

Harold thought about uttering a pithy comment about the "best-laid plans," but he lost all coherent thought when he felt his wife's warm mouth envelop him – the sensation was beyond anything he had ever imagined, and Harold had quite the imagination. But this – Marian's soft curls brushing against his skin, the sight of her moving below him, the sensations her loving caresses were creating within him – far surpassed any fantasy he had ever harbored.

His breath catching, Harold lovingly threaded his fingers through her blonde tresses and pulled Marian closer as he began to move with her, eagerly succumbing to her tender ministrations. The question of where she had learned to do what she was doing briefly flitted through his mind, but was quickly obscured when he felt her warm hands teasingly caress his bare thighs.

As Harold drifted deeper into the maelstrom of sensations Marian was creating, he felt her shift against him and began to move away. A sigh of regret fell from his lips, but before he could voice his disappointment, he stiffened in shock, and a strangled gasp escaped him as her tongue flicked lightly against his smooth skin, the teasing motion causing him to twist beneath Marian's exploring mouth. Releasing her curls, his hands frantically gripped the sheets below him.

It took him a moment to realize that the pleading groans he heard were coming from his own throat, and when he did, the revelation shocked him. Never in any of his experiences had he surrendered his self control. While Harold had certainly enjoyed the skillful attentions of past paramours, he'd always maintained an emotional detachment, adamant that pleasure never be confused with passion. But now, as Marian lovingly bestowed her affection upon him, he felt an overwhelming love for his wife course through him, and realized he had never known a touch like this from any woman.

As his lower body tightened in unbearable pleasure, his own breathless gasps filled the room. Harold surrendered to the ecstasy that was rapidly coiling within him and, with a start, discovered his usually-tenable willpower suddenly eluded him. When he eventually regained control of his faculties, he was going to have a long discussion with his wife about this previously-unknown talent. But right now, Harold was more than willing to forgo all conversation and completely focus on the incredible sensation of Marian's mouth and hands lovingly caressing him in the most intimate way he had ever experienced. His hands weaved through her hair once more, and without conscious thought, he brought his wife closer, moving in rhythm to her ministrations, groaning her name over and over, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, desperately straining for release.

It was the sound of Marian's own soft moans echoing throughout their room that finally pushed him over the edge. The sweet sounds of womanly satisfaction emanating from his lovely wife were too much. Crying out her name, he involuntarily arched beneath her and strained forward as he rushed headlong into ecstasy, his body shuddering as he felt his release come upon him. He was vaguely aware of Marian discreetly pulling away as he surrendered to the bliss that enveloped him, but was lost once again when waves of satisfaction crashed over him. It had been many months since a woman had graced him with such an erotic gesture. The knowledge that it was Marian loving him so intimately and generously only served to increase the intensity of his passion, and Harold came to the wonderful realization that the pleasure Marian gave him was unparalleled to any he had ever known.

As he contemplated this satisfying realization, his racing heart began to slow, and he released the sheets knotted within his grasp. When his ragged breathing became regular once again, he slowly opened his eyes. Marian still lay below him, her head nestled against his thigh, gazing at him in with a tender expression of love mingled with affection. A satisfied smile played at the corners of her mouth, and after a moment's pause, she gave him an impish grin and arched an eyebrow.

"Well hello, Professor Hill," she teased. "That was certainly … stimulating."

Harold stared at her in amazed silence, still somewhat in shock at what had just occurred and at her brazen assessment. Yes, Harold reflected as his breathing slowly tapered off into deep, shuddering breaths, _we are going to have an_ involved _discussion_.

But, he didn't think it would be right now. As he gazed at Marian, clad temptingly in such a lovely shade of teal and stray wisps of hair falling to frame her beautiful face, he was struck with the powerful need to communicate how much he truly loved his wife.

Reaching down, he pulled her up along his body until she was nestled within his arms. Murmuring heated endearments while stroking his hands along her satin form, Harold buried his head against Marian's soft neck, nuzzling his beloved until her giggles turned to breathless gasps.

Their discussion could wait until tomorrow.


End file.
